I woke up at 4:30 AM to finish packing and to get ready to go to Seattle.
I was really pretty excited about going for many and sundry reasons (Yay!
I get to see Tree!). I had gotten to bed at 2 AM the night before, so needless
to say, I was really tired, but I figured that maybe I would be less afraid
to fly and maybe even get to sleep on the plane. It was freezing cold outside
and it had rained the night before, so the roads were quite slippery and I
guessed that my flight was probably going to be delayed, seeing as planes
and ice don’t get along so well. I was bringing along a big bag, which
I planned to check, a smaller carry-on, and a purse-type thing that is not
a purse because purses are stupid and girly.

I got to the airport at 5:45 or so and went to the Northwest counter to check
my bags and get the tickets. I gave the lady behind the counter my name, ID,
and confirmation code that I had received in the magical email that reserved
the plane tickets 3 weeks before. The lady typed my name into the computer,
glanced up at me quickly, and said, "Please wait one minute." She
then turned her back to me, picked up the telephone, and dialed a 4-digit
number. She had a quick, quiet conversation with whomever was on the other
end that I couldn’t hear thanks to the lovely music being piped over
the speakers. She hung up the phone, turned back to me, and pretended (poorly)
to be examining her little computer monitor very closely.

20 seconds later, 3 army-type guys come striding out of nowhere with faggy
little berets and guns at their hips. They approached me and said, "Could
you come with us, please?" They formed a sort of v-formation around me
with two on either side and one leading the way. One guy came out to take
my luggage. They led me past the security checkpoints and through a door marked
‘authorized personnel only’ and down a long, dark hallway with
rooms along it that can only be described as interrogation rooms from bad
B-movies. We entered one of them, complete with a two-way mirror and a table
in the center with chairs on both sides. The only thing missing was a bare
lightbulb hanging down in the center of the room- this one had sterile, fluorescent
lighting instead.

The military goons exited the room and 2 guys with suits entered. They sat
across from me and proceeded to enact the most cliché version of good
cop / bad cop ever seen even in the worst Bruce Willis movie.
"Hello, Emily. I am sure you’re wondering why you are here, but
I assure you that the more you cooperate, the sooner we can get you out of
here and the happier we were all be," said Good Cop.
"We know that you have terrorist affiliations!" said Bad Cop.

At this point, I was really confused. I assumed that they must have me confused
with someone else, because last I checked, I hadn’t been associated
with any terrorist groups. There was that one time in Thailand, but I was
a working girl and he was asking for it. I said calmly, "There must be
some mistake. I’m sure you have the wrong person." Again, right
out of a bad movie.
"Were you at one point the leader of a group called ‘The Order
of Ten-Fat-Tigers?" Asked Good Cop.

*****EXPLANATION*****
When I was in undergrad, I headed up an organization called, as above, The
Order of Ten-Fat-Tigers. (http://www.devo.com.tft) We were mainly a political
art group, doing things like erecting a giant golden phallus on campus and
re-enacting the Jonestown massacre. One of the things we did included stealing
the official UW-Madison Student Government stationary and writing declarations
of war to other countries in their name. (http://www.devo.com/tft/war/war1.html).
Being the head of the organization, my name (middle initial changed) was used
on these letters. The gumment obviously got ahold of them and considered them
to be terrorist activity. We also held a ‘terrorist training camp’
in a large heavily traversed area on campus where I pretended to teach terrorists
from various countries how to efficiently kill people. Fuck.
***

So I said, "Yes, I was."
"You declared war on foreign lands?" Asked Good cop.
"We did it as a prank. It was never intended to be serious," said
my fine self.
"Well, you do realize that it was taken seriously, don’t you?"
asked Good Cop.
"Your terrorist acts are known to us!" yelled Bad Cop.

They then proceeded to ask me why I was going to Seattle and why I was taking
such a circuitous route (Detroit -->Minneapolis-->Seattle). They asked
me if I was planning on using my return ticket, how long I would be there,
who I was staying with, etc. I gave them Rich’s number and told them
to call him because he is the real brains behind the operation. They did not
find that amusing.

They said that there was no way they could let me fly until they did a background
check and confirmed that I was who I said I was and that I posed no threat
to anyone. Meanwhile, they would search through my luggage and make sure I
did not have any weapons or anthrax or whatever. They looked through my non-purse
and found a big bottle of pills that in actuality contained Zoloft, vitamins,
Sonata (an Ambien-like sleeping drug but with a shorter half-life). And Lorazepam
(a tranquilizer that would make me not freak out on the plane). They opened
the bottle and dumped out the contents.
"So… what are all of these?" asked Good Cop.
I proceeded to tell them in detail what the drugs were used for,
"You sure seem to know a lot about drugs! Why is that?" Asked Bad
Cop.
"I’m in medical school," I said.
"Really? Well, if we say… call the medical school, they will be
able to confirm this?" Asked Bad Cop.

I told them to go ahead, and the guy actually took a phone out of his pocket
and called. Of course, I am in medical school, so he hung up the phone and
said, "Well, it would seem you are in medical school…" very
cryptically.

They told me that they were going to go and do a check on me and that they
were not sure how long it would take. I told them that I had to go to the
bathroom, and they talked in whispers for a minute and then said that I could
go as long as I went with one of their army goons. I did, and the goon waited
outside of the door while I peed to make sure I didn’t flush myself
down the toilet to escape or whatever.

Here began the entertaining 3 hours of waiting, at the end of which I was
informed, "Our search was inconclusive. You can either go home or wait
here. But we cannot let you board the plane." They saidt hat they would
call me as soon as they know more information. Apparently I am too dangerous
to go to the bathroom alone, but I am not too dangerous to be unleashed into
the general public again.